A Way to Move Forward
by GraySparkles
Summary: The actions of the past twist and distort the future, and Klavier knocks on the door of the man who should rightfully hate him.


comes back to writing a year and a half later with juice and an ever growing love for the aa series

As always, reviews and helpful advice are always A+!

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Klavier looks up at the building in front of him, gripping onto the flier in his hands, and nervously paces back and forth. This shouldn't be a hard decision, yet he hums, drags his heels, walks to the office (despite owning a motorcycle), and even traces back his steps, just in case he forgets anything.

But there's no hiding now.

He's ruined a man's life, possible two men, and a girl's life as well. Logically, Klavier knows he didn't do anything with the intent of disbarring Mr. Wright, but the arrogant attitude, the seamless calling of the witness that would undo Mr. Wright's entire career… Even if it was his brother, Klavier should've noticed how confident Kristoph was with his endless goldmine of information.

Kristoph. Now there was someone Klavier wasn't sure about. Klavier's brotherly side protested to the cold and somewhat cruel way he helped drag the truth out, as well as the savage pleasure Klavier felt after the mystery of 7 years had finally been solved, at the expense of his brother. But Klavier's cool, calm logical side won this argument. Kristoph had forged evidence, and in petty anger, had planted that false evidence, told Klavier of the witness who would secure his "win," and killed two – _maybe more, and isn't that scary that Klavier can assume there are more_ – men.

That trial – in more ways than one – is behind him now, and what lays in front of him may be his way to redemption, if he could even call it that. Forgiveness.

 _It's funny_ , Klavier thinks, _he had been unforgiving towards Mr. Wright during the man's final trial, and now he must beg for forgiveness._

 _Well, here goes._

Clenching his fist, Klavier enters the building that houses the Wright Talent Agency, and knocks on the door.

-/-

Staring into the cup pressed into his hands, Klavier takes in the look of the room he's currently occupying. It looks homely, with grape juice bottles strewn on the floor and clutter everywhere. Kristoph – he's really got to stop thinking about him, but he can't stop – would sneer, push his glasses up, and call this a mess. But Klavier is reminded of his office. Messy, but organized enough to find what he needs.

Mr. Wright had answered the door, balancing a phone between his ear and shoulder, and seemed to be reading a file, if the thick stack of papers in his hands is any indication. Seeing those eyes cool almost immediately with recognition, Klavier has to remind himself to stay calm and collected, and puts an easy going smile on his face.

"Herr Wright?"

Raising his eyebrows up, Mr. Wright just states that _, if he's looking for Apollo, he's out with Trucy on another case_. Before he can close the door, Klavier sticks his foot in the crack – which _HURT_ but if he doesn't confess now, he'll never get the chance, and what's a foot when compared to this situation – and hastily asks for an audience with him. If just for a few minutes even?

A calculating look appears on the man's face, and a few seconds pass until he mutters a reply, hangs up, and invites Klavier in.

 _Step one, accomplished._

 _-/-_

When Mr. Wright reappears from a room further in, his eyes land on Klavier again. Swallowing to alleviate the dryness in his throat, Klavier makes a few minutes of easy talk, just general nonsense that Mr. Wright can surely see through as like how he saw through Kristoph, but doesn't comment on. Twisting his fingers and fumbling with one of the tips doesn't delay the inevitable, Klavier knows, and Mr. Wright gives a sardonic grin along with a teasing question.

"Am I making you nervous?"

 _Hitting the nail straight on, Herr Wright._

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out – and most definitely to his mortification – what could be considered an apology. It's desperate and Klavier wishes he could take it back, but as a prosecutor, he has to go the full way.

"Herr Wright, I'm sorry for what happened 7 years ago."

It's simple and really doesn't fit the extremity of what happened, but Mr. Wright seems to understand what he means and shrugs.

"Ah, what's done is-"

"NO!"

Klavier isn't aware that he yells that word, isn't aware that he's stood up, muscles clenching, eyes screwed shut. All he's aware of is this confession to the man whom he helped ruin.

It spills out, how excited he was to finally face his brother. How his brot- _Kristoph_ came back from his meeting with Zak Gramarye in a furious mood, leaving for a few hours only to return with a calm smile, and information. Valuable information at the time, but now useless. How Klavier's contempt came from faith in his brother, and disgust in the famed attorney for giving into the lust of forged evidence. The emptiness and darkness that followed Klavier for years upon years until the end of Vera Misham's trial, as he tried to figure out why that victory _, if it could even be called a victory_ , ached and pushed itself to the front of Klavier's mind.

At the end of his long winded speech, which was most definitely not what he had practiced, he stutters, and clearing his throat, finally asks for forgiveness.

The minutes after that request are full of silence, and Klavier can tell, after he had practically forced his eyes open, that Mr. Wright is contemplating what he's said. It blows him away that the man he had torn his attorney's badge from is thinking of forgiveness. Or maybe Klavier has keep his hopes up for too long and knows that there is nothing for him from Mr. Wright.

In the end, Klavier thanks Mr. Wright for his hospitality and for hearing him out, and heads towards the door.

"Wait."

Tangling his fingers through his hair, Klavier is almost surprised when the man offers him a wry smile.

"I accept your apology."

"?"

Klavier's sure he's sputtering, and the look of amusement Mr. Wright is giving him is a definite sign, but all he thinks is _shouldn't the man hate him for what he took away_?

He lets out a laugh and _honestly Prosecutor Gavin, even with my forgiveness, are you sure you aren't looking for your own?_ To that, Klavier doesn't have much of a response, only a watery smile and a whisper of "Goodbye, Herr Wright."

"In exchange to call me Herr Wright, may I call you Klavier?"

Quickly shaking his head to indicate a yes, Klavier can feel a wry grin pulling itself on his face, and with a lightness in his heart, he moves forward.


End file.
